


Endure and Redress

by melrosie



Series: Every Step of the Way [3]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: ( to be added ), F/F, Heist Wives, Post Prison Recovery, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melrosie/pseuds/melrosie
Summary: This heist had been unique-- a relief, a validation, a homecoming… and what better than to share it with the person she’d felt the most homesick for? Debbie hasn't let herself come home until now. She would have ended up distracted otherwise, would have ended up gravitating toward old habits... toward Lou.





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will follow Lou and Debbie after the Met Gala heist. They have to navigate their respective demons after being apart for nearly six years, and learn how to be a couple and a partnership again. Relevant warnings will be included in chapter summaries.  
> ~  
> This fic makes reference to the previous fics in this series as far as my personal Heist Wives timeline.  
> ~  
> Enjoy!

She is a calm woman, calculated even. It took years of practice to get herself to a place of assuredness in her own skills to execute her plans to near perfection, and even improvise where needed. The Met Gala heist was absolutely no different. 

It had always been in her mind to slip Claude into this, to get back at him for violating her trust, for robbing her of almost six years of her life. And for being the catalyst that almost lost her one of the most important people in her life.

She had had a lot of fault in that-- _the rough patch_ , leaving. Too much ego, a mutual misunderstanding that ruptured their Bonnie and Clyde partnership; her criminal mind craving more than just a steady income, craving the excitement that came with the schemes. 

Debbie thought it would be harder to get Lou back. Back as far as working the job. Not any closer than that. Any closer and she would have ended up distracted… ended up gravitating toward old habits. Toward Lou.

And now the gala was over and the Ocean is running on the high of it, and no unfamiliar eye would recognize any outward expression of her exhilaration. 

During the limo drive back to the club, Debbie had replayed the way Lou had sauntered across the street toward her in that green jumpsuit, embroidered and shiny, and with a plunging neckline, where settled her piece of the Toussaint, comfortably between her breasts.

Their footsteps echo throughout the empty space now. The others wouldn’t be back until the morning. Lou goes ahead and flicks on the lights, and Debbie slips over to the lower bathroom, heels tapping against the floor. 

She tugs off her wig and sets it on its bust, taking off her shoes before she begins to pluck the many pins from her hair. She sets them on the countertop with light little _plink, plink, plink_ sounds. 

Debbie can see Lou in the reflection of the mirror, standing near a table by the stage, pulling out the many jewelry cases they had acquired to hold the rest of the Toussaint pieces. 

When the last pin is freed she picks up her hair brush and drags it through her long brown locks. Now she regards her reflection, still all done up, merely sans the wig, elegant. It strikes how long it had gotten, despite having cut it a few times during her incarceration. Nevertheless, it was still… so much.

Debbie glances back at Lou in the mirror, watching her unclasp her necklace and place it in its new case. Just as she sees the blonde straighten, about to turn, Debbie steps out of the powder room and pads over to her in bare feet. 

“Here.” Lou says, holding out her hand. “Let’s get these rocks in their velvet.” 

Debbie smiles and holds up her wrist, watching Lou’s thoughtful expression as she unclasps Amita’s handiwork and slips it into its case.

“And now we wait.” Lou says.

“Twelve hours until the others rendezvous.” Debbie replies, meeting Lou’s gaze as she takes a long and slow breath. 

It seizes her then, the memory of every post-job high she’d shared with Lou in their glory days. Not a memory now, a full body feeling. This heist had been unique-- a relief, a validation, a homecoming… and what better than to share it with the person she’d felt the most homesick for?

Debbie reaches out for the irresistible neckline of Lou’s jumpsuit, knuckles brushing the blonde’s skin, and backs her up against the nearest wall. 

“Deb--” Lou says, but Debbie kisses her before she can say anything else. Lou completely melts against her, lips parting with a slight gasp, hands coming up immediately to slip into Debbie’s hair, cradling her head.

Lou gives a shaky sigh, breaking the kiss. “What are you doing?” She asks, and Debbie feels a sharp ache in her chest at the familiarity of the words. She closes her eyes, remembering the first time she’d had to answer that question... _I’m not kissing you, and I wanna be._

“Coming home.” Debbie whispers, opening her eyes, only to feel a sting of emotion in them. She takes in a deep breath, leaning her forehead against Lou’s. “I wanna come home.” She clears her throat when she feels her voice crack, and hears a breath of a laugh from Lou. 

“Oh honey,” she slips a hand from Debbie’s hair and holds her jaw gently, tilting her head up. “You’ve been home.” Lou kisses her again, switching their places and pressing Debbie to the wall instead. 

“I haven’t.” Debbie says earnestly. “Couldn’t let myself come all the way back.” Her breath hitches as one of Lou’s thighs comes between hers, a far away familiar feeling even between two layers of fabric. “Not until the job was done.” 

Lou kisses her again, pressing her thigh a little more pointedly between Debbie’s legs and earning her a quiet moan. “The job isn’t done yet though.” Lou reminds, and Debbie knows well enough how many key steps are left. 

“I don’t care.” She breathes. “Close enough.” Debbie winds her arms around Lou’s shoulders, kissing her hard, an edge of desperation to her movements. She rolls her hips against Lou’s thigh and feels her laugh against her lips. 

Lou tightens her grip on Debbie’s hair guiding her head back to kiss and suck at her jaw and neck. 

“You _stole_ this perfume didn’t you?” Lou accuses amusedly, taking a deep breath as she sucks a love bite against Debbie’s skin. 

“First thing I did after being paroled.” Debbie replies with a laugh, groaning when Lou gives her a playful bite. 

In an instant Lou takes Debbie by the waist and waltzes her over to the stage, hands leaving her hair to scoop up handfuls of her dress before lifting her onto the edge of the stage beside the card paper model of The Met.

It’s so easy to welcome Lou between her legs, framing Lou’s hips with her thighs as the blonde leans in to kiss her again, planting her hands on either side of her. 

“I missed you.” Debbie says, giving a yelp when Lou gives her a light shove, crushing most of the left side of the card paper model. 

“I know.” Lou replies, slipping her hand up Debbie’s skirt, piling it at the tops of her thighs, and finding the band of her lacy thong. Debbie lifts her hips off the stage floor, letting Lou slips the garments off her legs and toss is aside. She watches Debbie as she parts her legs with purpose, watching a rosie flush find its way onto Debbie’s cheeks. 

“Did I tell you you look ravishing?” Lou asks, and Debbie shakes her head, some section of the American Art wing grazing her neck. Lou grins, running her hands over the inside of Debbie’s thighs. “You look good enough to eat.” She says. 

Debbie groans at the joke. “For crying out--” she gets no further, merely capable of suckin in a sharp breath when she feels Lou’s mouth on her. A heady and surprised cry leaves her lips and she finds herself utterly embarrassed at how easily she’s overwhelmed by the blonde’s tongue against her clit.

Lou has to hold her hips to keep Debbie from wriggling, and she feels plenty smug at all the moans and whimpers she’s pulling from the Ocean’s lips. 

This moment is letting go of six years of self preservation, six years of no intimate contact-- of _what if_ s-- of resentments and revenge fantasies. Nothing compared to this, nothing compared to someone knowing your body this well, even after so long apart. 

She feels so raw and unpracticed, that coil in her belly already so tight that her legs are shaking.

“Just like that--” Debbie gasps, one of her hands grasping at Lou’s hair. “Oh baby-- baby! Just like that.” She arches her back, a sobbed moan slipping from her throat as Lou pushes her over edge. Ever the attentive lover, Lou gently pleases her until she relaxes and her grip on her hair eases. 

Lou pulls away, pressing open mouth kisses to Debbie’s shaky thighs, but doesn’t let the Ocean bask long before she’s tugging her up into a kiss. Debbie wraps her arms around Lou’s shoulders, half jelly against the blonde, humming at the taste of herself on Lou’s lips. 

“Can I get you out of that jumpsuit?” Debbie asks, fingers stroking over Lou’s neck. 

“Yes. But let’s get cleaned up first.” Lou says, helping Debbie off the stage, and making sure her legs will carry her. “We’ve got a bit of a lipstick situation going on.” She says, wiping her thumb under her own lip and coming away with a melange of both of the shades they’re wearing. 

“I hear smear proof lipstick is _in_.” Debbie says casually, with a shrug. 

Lou cants her head to the side. “They’re a bit drying.”

\---

The makeup removing wipes smell faintly of rose water, and Debbie makes quick work of the smudged lipstick. She gets half her face clean before needing another wipe to clean off the rest. What she’s left with is the face she’s seen irregularly for the last five years and eight months, then reflected in vaguely distorted metal mirrors. 

The unders of her eyes are a little dark, tired, so she grabs her washcloth and soaks it under cold water, pressing it to her face with a sigh. 

“Want some help with your dress?” Lou asks, leaning against the door frame. Debbie lowers the washcloth, nodding, lifting one of her arms to give Lou room to get at the zipper at her side. 

Debbie shrugs her way out of the dress, pushing it past her hips and letting it pool on the floor by her feet. She meets Lou’s gaze in the mirror, and watches her drink in the sight of her nakedness, wishing she could read the blonde’s mind. 

She hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on her body since being released, her clothes still fit and that’s all that really mattered. But she hadn’t had any control over what she ate or how hydrated she was and how much physical activity she did. It created an odd dissonance, to see an attractive shape, but feel that it wasn’t hers. 

Not until she felt Lou wrap her arms around her in a backwards embrace and press her lips to her shoulder. Debbie closes her eyes, focusing on the pressure of Lou’s elegant fingers against her tummy. The touch is just enough to make her feel a little more in her body. 

“You’re beautiful.” Lou murmurs, and Debbie sighs, turning around in Lou’s embrace and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. 

“Let me get your zipper,” Debbie says, reaching around to the back of Lou’s jumpsuit to tug the zipper down half way. She slips out of Lou’s arms and undoes it the rest of the way, helping Lou slide the top half off her shoulders before, reaching down for her dress and slipping out of the room. 

When she returns she’s wearing a silk camisole and a simple black La Perla thong. Lou had gotten out of her jumpsuit and stands in nothing but a lacy navy blue brief. For a moment, Debbie doesn’t want to look, a fear catching her off guard as she perches at the edge of the bathtub and watches Lou take off her makeup. 

They’d seen each other only once before she’d gone to prison, and that had been the first time after almost nine months. To think how angry she’d felt that time, how mean her kisses had been, but how impossible it was to forget Lou’s body. Like muscle memory. And she’d almost let all of the art fraud got hat night, all from the feeling of Lou lying spent on top of her…

How much did she remember? 

Debbie stands, coming over to the other sink at the double vanity and grabbing the mouth-wash off the shelf. She pours a little into her glass and rinses her mouth, spitting it into the sink and then doing the same with a mouthful of water. 

When she’s done she leans against the counter, watching Lou finish washing her face. Finally she looks, taking in the woman that had been missing from her for too fucking long. 

The tattoos she remembers well, remembers being there when Lou got some of them. The little wave sitting on the right side of her back on her ribs, from when they’d spent two weeks in New Zealand in 2005… She runs her fingers over it as she steps over to Lou. 

Debbie closes her eyes and presses her lips against the bumps of Lou’s spine, kissing her softly. Her left hand slips down Lou’s arm, finding the small single line work rose sitting just above her elbow.

Lou leans into her, as Debbie’s left hand slips lower still, her fingertips slipping past the waistband of her underwear and ghosting over the spot where a tiny switchblade lies nestled between her thigh and hip. 

“You’re killing me, hon.” Lou says, and Debbie smiles, leaning in to kiss Lou’s neck and shoulder, slowly and with the intention to mark her. The hand in her underwear slips out, fingers ghosting low on her tummy, intent to tease. 

“Come on then.” Debbie says once she’s left a mark, taking Lou’s hand and guiding them into the hall and towards Lou’s bedroom, leaving the blonde’s block heels and emerald jumpsuit in the washroom. 

Lou crawls backward onto the bed, all the way up to the pillows, where she lays back, propped up. Debbie crawls over to her, and kneels between Lou’s legs, taking Lou’s face in both of her hands and kissing her hard. Debbie gives a little squeak when Lou grabs her ass, nails digging into her skin. 

She drops the kiss sitting up and looking down at Lou’s expectant expression. Debbie smiles and reaches over with one hand, brushing Lou’s hair out of her face. 

“I don’t know how you can see with this fringe in your eyes.” She says amusedly, leaning down to kiss her chastely. 

Lou merely laughs, giving a quiet sigh as Debbie’s kisses venture down to her collarbones, and finally to her chest. There Debbie leaves open mouth kisses over the curve of Lou’s right breast, taking her time to suck hickeys into her skin, and drag her teeth over her nipple. 

“Fuck.” Lou mutters, one of her hands coming to rest in Debbie’s hair again. Debbie crawls a little lower now, lips and teeth and tongue leaving a trail of angry little love bites down her tummy. She pauses above Lou’s navel, biting down hard enough to make Lou groan. 

“You’ve been working out?” Debbie teases, feeling Lou’s abs contract under her tongue. She ventures back up Lou’s body, giving the same attention to her left breast, until she reaches her collarbone again. 

Debbie plants an arm next to Lou’s shoulders, her free hand slipping between them and back into Lou’s lacy navy briefs. The Ocean makes a point kiss Lou’s neck as she slips her fingers into Lou’s wetness, and feels the vibration of the blonde’s heady groan against her mouth. 

She moves her fingers in the most natural way she knows, a slow massaging pace before slipping two fingers carefully into her partner. Debbie feels Lou’s walls shudder and slowly starts to pump her fingers, using her thumb to maintain contact on her clit. 

“Kiss me.” Lou says, tugging on Debbie’s hair, and she obliges. Lou gives a shaky moan, distracted and flushed, but Debbie meets her kisses nonetheless, smiling smugly as she does. 

She can tell Lou is close when her hands grip both her ass and her hair more tightly. Her walls start to tighten against Debbie’s fingers until that’s all she feels. Lou presses her head back into the pillows, a drawn out moan leaving her lips. Debbie presses small kisses to Lou’s cheek, feeling the blonde shudder against her and eventually relax.

“You want to taste?” Debbie asks in a whisper, slipping her fingers from Lou. 

“God yes.” Lou replies, taking hold of Debbie’s wrist and taking her fingers into her mouth, maintaining an utterly sinful level of eye contact as she does. As soon as Debbie’s digits leave Lou’s mouth, she kisses her again, long and slow. 

Debbie lays down next to Lou, and Lou turns over, propped up on her elbow, hovering over her as they kiss lazily.

“I’ll be right back.” Lou murmurs a moment later, and Debbie just nods, watching Lou climb off the bed and grab a few fresh clothing items from a drawer before slipping into the hall. 

Debbie hears her moving around in the washroom, and almost doses off until she feels the bed dip again. Lou’s arm wind around her waist as she settles next to her, pulling the sheets and blankets up to their hips. She’s in a pair of Calvin Klein boxers and a loose tank top now.

“Comfortable?” Lou asks, and Debbie nods, smiling sleepily. 

“Very.” She replies, and gives a hum of laughter when Lou kisses her again. It’s a minty kiss. 

Lou’s hand runs gentle little circles over Debbie’s tummy, dipping under the camisole. 

“Did you have any… during…” Lou’s doesn’t finish her question, hesitating. 

“No.” Debbie volunteers. “You’re the first.” She gives a thoughtful hum. “You?” 

Lou’s circles pause over her tummy, and Debbie links their fingers. Lou gives her hand a squeeze. “The last one was ten months ago.” Lou admits, an edge of guilt in her voice. “But you’re the first inside me in six years.”

Those words are heavy, and Debbie tightens her hold on Lou’s hand, turning her head to press the bridge of her nose against Lou’s cheek. She takes a deep breath.

“Am I home now?” She asks, knowing the question holds just as much weight. She doesn’t care that Lou might have slept with other women, as long as they can come back to each other now. Lou turns her head and presses a kiss to Debbie’s brow. 

“You’re home.” She promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, comments are greatly appreciated.


	2. Tired Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Debbie is an early bird. Nine Ball and Constance take notice of the damaged card paper model of The Met. Sleep is a fickle mistress and something Debbie is has been having a hard time with since getting out of prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains instances of vomiting and of unintentional over use of a sleep aid. If you would prefer to avoid such content, it begins after the line "And finally the job is done" and is resumable at the line "You want some water?".  
> ~  
> Enjoy!

The club is an old building. Its character lies in its original floors and its architecture, restored. Other things have been replaced, like the wiring and the pipes. But it still creaks. Lou has become familiar with its sounds. She had also become used to the sounds of her partner, sleeping in the other room. Her patterns and her presence in the building. 

But Debbie isn’t in the other room, she’s here, next to Lou, their fingers still knit even though she’d turned onto her side as some point during the night. She’s been used to sleeping alone. Has since Debbie left. Never spending more than a few hours in anyone’s bed no matter how tired or hungover she was. She hadn’t let herself. Couldn’t.

She’s comfortable and warm and asleep until something draws her out of it, she finds herself blinking against the dim light pooling in from the hallway, orienting herself into wakefulness. What gives her the final tug into clarity is the whimper she hears next to her. Lou shifts, laying on her back, and Debbie jerks suddenly, a gasp leaving her lips. A night start.

Debbie inhales sharply, letting go of Lou’s hand to plant her own on the mattress as if taking stock of her surroundings. Lou can see the silhouette of panic in Debbie’s shoulders as she sits up and runs her hand through her hair. 

“You alright?” Lou says quietly, voice still thick with sleep. Debbie tenses, not expecting the voice, but relaxes just as quickly. 

“Fine,” she whispers, nodding. She reaches out and grasps the alarm clock, seeing the faint glow. It’s a quarter past five. Debbie sighs, and lays back down, turning over to face Lou. She brushes some hair out of Lou’s face and kisses her softly before settling against the pillows again. It’s easy enough for Lou to drift off again, but Debbie merely waits, hopes.

She hears Lou’s breathing slow and even out, but her mind won’t give her the same gift. So she waits, and a little over fifteen minutes later she slips from Lou’s bed and leaves the door only slightly ajar. For light and for sound, she wants to spare the blonde the disturbance of her early morning activities. 

Debbie slips into the washroom, noticing Lou’s jumpsuit now hanging on a hanger on the back of the door when she closes it. In the light of the bathroom she can see how tired she looks, but it’s easy to ignore when her gaze is drawn to the dark hickey just under her jaw, the biggest and most obvious of her small new collection. A few lighter ones sit lower on her neck, and another sits on her shoulder.

In a routine she’d built for herself since being released, Debbie brushes her teeth and gets in the shower. She washes her hair and finishes bathing by standing under the coldest water she can tolerate before stepping out. She dries off with a towel that feels too soft, and puts her underwear back on. 

With no one but a sleeping Lou in the building she doesn’t have any qualms walking from the washroom to her room without a shirt on. Simply finds some clothes, putting aside some slacks and a bra, and a shirt and grabbing a comb to run through her hair before putting it up with a towel.

She’d call her next steps self care. Things she couldn’t indulge in while she was in prison. But at the back of her mind, she knows _sleeping_ would be the best thing for her. _Tell that to sleep,_ she’d think, it’s the one evading her. 

So she rubs a floral scented cream into her skin, neck to toes, and applies a tinted moisturizer with an SPF to her face and neck hoping it would improve the appearance of her tired eyes, as well as the blotch of angry hickey on her neck.

Debbie dresses and tugs the towel out of her hair, making her way down the hall and stairs to the main floor, and fitting her brother’s watch back onto her wrist as she does. 

The high windows are letting in more light as the morning creeps in. Debbie starts a pot of coffee, checking her watch intermittently as she moves around the space, idly tidying the tables and tossing take out containers in the garbage. Anything to occupy her time and mind until the world wakes up and joins her. 

She finds her underwear from the night before, on the floor by the stage and hides it somewhere before she shoves the crushed model of The Met a few feet away from where she’d laid on it. She’s almost tempted to grab a wet Swiffer when the coffee machine beeps and other needs distract her. 

Debbie nurses the coffee for twenty minutes before the idleness gets to her. She checks her watch again and takes a final sip of her coffee, deciding the hour is appropriate enough for her to slip out. So she puts on some shoes, grabs her coat, sunglasses and purse and slips out of the club, letting the door click shut behind her. 

\---

She takes no more than an hour to return, now with two bags full of breakfast food from a shop she likes. Debbie nibbles at some strips of bacon and a wrap she’d gotten herself until the buzzer sounds by the door.

The ladies filter in starting at nine thirty. Rose is the first, eagerly passing her choker to Debbie to slip it into its velvet case. The designer takes some food and coffee and finds herself a spot on one of the couches and pulls a sketchbook from her bag and starts drawing.

Constance and Amita wander in at the same time ten minutes later, passing along their pieces and grabbing some breakfast themselves. Constance starts to skate back and forth parallel to the stage, and nobody really minds. 

Lou comes down at nine forty five, dressed and made up and contentedly grabs some food and coffee for herself before taking a seat in the easy chair where Debbie is perched on the arm rest. From where she’s sitting, Debbie can see that Lou hadn’t put much effort into hiding the hickeys on her breasts, which Debbie can see from the way Lou has buttoned her shirt. 

She was wearing a scarf though.

Tammy arrives five minutes later, and Nine Ball is walking in the front door the moment the clock strikes ten. Once they hand over their jewelry they find their own places around the club, mingling and eating and existing. 

Nine Ball sets herself up on the stage, leaning against the wall with her laptop beside her, idly checking the screen now and then to monitor the progress of one of her assingments. She chats with Constance each time the younger girl skates by.

At some point, Nine Ball notices the moved card paper model and cants her head curiously. She leans forward to get a better look at the crushed left side of it, brushing aside one of her locs. She waves Constance over when the pickpocket skates by again. 

“Connie look at this.” She says, just between the two of them. Constance scrunches up her nose at the nickname but stops her board and climbs onto the stage. 

“What’s up?” She asks, glancing down at the model, a curious expression on her face. “Oh-- looks like someone sat on it.” 

“Nah, look at the shape.” Nine Ball motions with one hand, drawing the outside of the crushed area with her finger. It takes Constance a couple seconds to figure it out, but when she does her lips form a small O shape. 

“It’s _person_ shaped.” She says, looking at Nine Ball. Who gives her a pointed look. Then it hits her. “Oh!” Ever impulsive, the girl shimmies over to the edge of the card paper model lining herself up with the crushed pattern. 

Nine Ball snickers as Constance lays back, fitting in the overall shape. She is a little smaller than it. 

“Does that mean--?” Constance asks, looking dramatically in Debbie and Lou’s direction as they chat with Amita and Tammy. 

“They _were_ the only two here last night.” Nine Ball shrugs, giving a smirk. 

“Oh shit!” Constance exclaims buoyantly. Nine Ball glances over at the others, who have all turned to look at then. 

“Did you squish the model!?” Tammy asks, standing from the chair she was sitting in. Nine Ball starts laughing at the intensity of the woman’s _mom voice_ , and Constance gives a squeak of protest. 

“It was alre--!” But Nine Ball smacks her hand over the pickpocket’s mouth before she can say anything more, and helps her sit up.

Nine Ball watches Lou and Debbie exchange a glance, and she hops off the stage, stepping on Constance’s board and gliding over the sofas to join the others. 

“Hey!” Constance follows, sitting on her board on the floor once Nine Ball liberates it and sits down low on the sofa. 

“So, you gonna tell us what’s next, Ocean?” Nine Ball asks, stretching her arms behind her head casually. 

Debbie smiles and looks around at the others. “Well we’re all here so, better get to it.” She motions at the wheeled table hosting all of the jewelry cases of the jigsawed Toussaint. 

\--

In the days following all of the final details are put together. Lou and Debbie introduce Daphne to the others, and Debbie seamlessly handles the presence of John Frazier. Daphne handles herself beautifully as well, a true tribute to her acting career when she ensures Claude’s arrest. Within the week everyone had warmed up to the actress, especially when it was ascertained that there was absolutely no chance of them being caught. 

Debbie doesn’t sleep much, and when she does she’s crawling into Lou’s bed well past midnight. Lou notices the lack of rest Debbie is getting, feels her startle in her sleep many times, soothed by little other than Lou holding her. Nevertheless, the Ocean only gets a few hours a night, always rising by five thirty and starting her day while the world-- or her world-- is still asleep. 

Getting to reveal to the rest of the team how much money they’d be walking away with was a thrill in and of itself, even more so that she got to share the moment with Lou. Amita receives no reprieve from the others when they learn she was in on the making of the fake jewels, and had known early on what Debbie and Lou were planning. 

And finally the job is done.

\--

She’d gone to bed before Lou that night, at nine, remarkably early for Debbie. Lou had joined her two and a half hours later and had just lightly fallen asleep when she felt Debbie stir. It wasn’t the same jerk she so often did, but there was an edge of weary acceptance in the Debbie’s groan. Lou is just aware enough to feel her leave the bed and return a few minutes later. 

Lou sleeps comfortably for two more hours, until she’s pulled awake by Debbie getting up again. She ignores it, tiredly makes a note to talk to her about it in the morning, and lays an arm around Debbie’s middle when she returns. She’s half an hour into sleep once more when she feels Debbie sit up with a jolt and can barely process how quickly she staggers out of the room. 

This has Lou wide awake, pushing down any exasperation she may have been feeling at the urgency of her lover’s exit. And it is completely replaced when she hears Debbie slam the bathroom door and throw up a few seconds later. Lou gets out of bed, rushing to the bathroom where the door is shut. 

“Deb, what’s going on? Are you alr---” She hears Debbie be sick again before she finishes asking, and hears her suck in a few steadying breaths. “Deb, honey…” Lou taps on the door, only to hear Debbie start to cry. 

Lou opens the door, mentally preparing herself for what she might see. Debbie is kneeling next to the toilet, shoulders shaking with uneven sobs. Lou’s gaze is drawn reluctantly to bright purple substance Debbie had thrown up. Her brow knits and she grabs a hair tie off the counter, kneeling next to Debbie and finger-combing her long hair back into a ponytail. 

“You want some water?” She asks quietly, and Debbie nods, trying to calm her breathing. Lou stands again, grabbing Debbie’s glass and filling it with water. She hands it to her slowly, making sure she has a secure hold on it before grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. 

“I just wanna fucking sleep…” Debbie gets out, and Lou gives her a moment to rinse her mouth and spit it out, and take another tentative sip. Her lips stain the top of the glass purple as well. 

Lou takes the glass back and sets it on the counter, watching Debbie as she shakily sits up on her knees and reaches over to flush the toilet. She sits back, flushed and shaking, still trying to catch her breath. 

Lou sits on the floor next to her, and presses the wet cloth against Debbie’s cheeks and forehead. Lou can see little freckle patterned bruising on Debbie’s cheeks from the force of her illness and sighs. 

“What did you take?” Lou asks, handing the cloth to Debbie, who wipes her mouth and reaches up to put the cloth by the edge of the sink. Her lip quivers and tears slips down her cheeks again as she tries to answer, but Lou can tell by the way she’s swaying that she’s dizzy. 

“C’mere,” she says, pulling Debbie over to her so she’s braced against the side of the bathtub. Debbie lays her head on one of her arms, and stares at her with a look of exhausted desperation. Lou cradles the side of Debbie’s face with one hand, wiping away the streak of tears. “What did you take, hon? I need to know.” 

Debbie takes in a shaky breath. “Zee-Quil.” She says, pressing the palm of her free hand against her eye. “I’m so tired.” Debbie moans, more tears slipping from her eyes when she squeezes them shut. Lou slips her hand over Debbie’s arm maintaining a just too-tight grip. 

“Ow.” Debbie whines, but the reaction is enough for Lou to make an educated guess. 

“How much, Debs? How much did you take?” 

Debbie shuts her eyes and turns her head, leaning her forehead against her arm, covering her eyes. She presses her hand over her ear now, grimacing. “Thr… no… _four_ … four little cups.” She gives a shudder and a sob breaks from her throat. 

“I don’t wanna go to solitary…” She weeps, and Lou reaches around her middle and drags her between her legs to cradle her. Debbie leans her head on Lou’s shoulder, and Lou strokes Debbie’s hair, making her sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She whispers, and Lou strokes her hair. 

“You’re not going anywhere, I’m right here.” Lou assures. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly, not sure if Debbie would be able to give her a straight answer. 

Debbie is quiet for a moment, but Lou can feel her shaking and feel the tears wetting her shirt. “Like shit.” She answers, and Lou gives a breath of a laugh. 

“Think you’ll be sick again?” Lou tries. Debbie shakes her head. 

“No.” 

Lou trails her hand down Debbie’s arm, until she has a gentle grip on her wrist. She feels her pulse carefully. It’s fast, but nothing terribly alarming. Debbie absently takes Lou’s hand, clasping it tightly. 

“I’m an idiot.” Debbie says, breath catching. She wraps her arm around Lou’s shoulder hugging her. Lou returns it, rubbing her back slowly. “I was so angry… why can’t I just sleep? Why can’t I just fucking sleep?”

A few minutes of quiet, of Lou rocking Debbie and rubbing her back. It seems to calm her down. It’s at the back of her mind that Debbie has enough of the meds in her system that she might be able to sleep now. 

“Can we go back to bed?” Debbie asks, and Lou smiles to herself.

“Yeah.” Lou says, slowly extricating herself form Debbie and standing. She helps Debbie up, guiding her to sit at the edge of the bathtub. “You wanna rinse your mouth again?” 

Debbie nods, reaching for the sink and getting to her feet. She’s a little steadier now, but sways a little. She rinses her glass with hot water and pours some mouthwash into it, swishing it around and spitting it into the sink. She sighs and rinses the glass again, replacing it on the counter. 

“Okay.” Debbie says, taking a deep breath. She reaches for Lou and the blonde invites her to lean on her for support as they make the short trip from the washroom back to the bedroom. Lou makes sure Debbie is at least sitting down before taking her hands away from her. 

“I’ll be right back.” Lou says, taking Debbie’s head between her hands and kissing her forehead. “Drink some water,” she motions at the water bottle on the bedside table, “Slowly.” She adds, and only slips back out of the room when she sees Debbie’s nod of acknowledgement. 

Lou heads down the stairs to the kitchen, filling up the kettle with water and setting it to boil. She gets down two mugs, and digs out two sachets of an herbal tea from her stash-- lemon lavender and ginger-- and squeezes a little honey into each mug. 

With only the water left to boil, Lou is left without a task to occupy her. She clenches her jaw, bracing her hands against the counter. For a moment she thinks she might have beat it, but the moment she stops concentrating, her breathing stalls in her chest and her eyes well over with tears. 

Lou is overtaken by heaving silent sobs, and she clamps her hand over her mouth to keep herself from making any sound. She stands there at the counter, hoping she can get a hold of herself before Debbie starts to worry. She doesn’t want Debbie to see her like this, struggling to catch her breath, feeling all her fear and worry coming to a front in her chest, having no power to ignore it anymore. 

Lou clears her throat, and tries to take a few slow and deep breaths. The kettle clicks and she maintains the slow breathing while she pours the water into the mugs. In the minutes it takes for the tea to steep, Lou calms, grabbing a couple of sheets of paper towel and wetting it to pat at her face and blow her nose. 

She removes the tea bags and stirs each mug of tea before taking a few more sheets and paper towel and picking up the mugs by their handles. Lou goes back upstairs, careful not to spill, and pads back to her room. 

“Here.” She says softly when she sees Debbie sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, the water bottle sitting in her lap half empty. “This will help.” Lou sits next to her and takes a sip of her tea. 

Debbie takes it, her hands a little less shaky now. She blows gently before taking a sip. “Thank you.” 

They sit together in the darkness of the room, the only light coming from the hallway. Just enough to see. Debbie finishes her tea first, and takes another swig of water before replacing both the mug and the bottle on the bedside table. Lou finishes her tea shortly thereafter and puts her mug next to Debbie’s. 

It’s almost four in the morning when Lou crawls back into the bed, some kind of exhausted relief in her bones when she settles. She watches Debbie settle as well, sinking down against the pillows with a faraway look in her eyes, guilt. 

“Come here.” Lou says, holding her hand out. Debbie rolls over, obliging, letting Lou take her in her arms. She lays her head by Lou’s shoulder, wrapping one of her arms around Lou’s middle. Debbie sighs, eyes feeling heavy, sleep finally coming to her. 

“Thank you.” She whispers. 

Lou strokes her hand over Debbie’s hair. “I love you.” Lou says. “But we’re gonna talk about this tomorrow.” 

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated!


	3. First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Debbie needs a little incentive to stay in bed, and Lou is happy to create some. Getting acclimated to freedom has been more difficult than Debbie expected, but her partner is by her side to start working it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll put some links to visual references I think are relevant to this chapter in the notes at the end.  
> ~  
> Enjoy!

Lou doesn’t sleep as deeply that night, restfully though, just very aware of the woman next to her. The events of the night were enough to exhaust Debbie into sleeping solidly for four hours. 

Lou is all too sensitive to her movements, and feels her stir. She is just awake enough to rub Debbie’s back idly, and smiles sleepily at the sound of the other woman’s soft sigh. For a little while longer she’s calm and relaxed, until she rolls over and curls into Lou with her back facing her.

Debbie, while comfortable in Lou’s arms can feel the draw of wakefulness coming to her. It’s a reluctant feeling, but she cannot avoid it. Fighting it is a losing battle in itself, because the more she tries the more frustrated she becomes and by extension more awake. She’s just given a deep sigh and rolled over, comfortably accepting Lou’s arm draped over her waist when she lets her eyes flicker open to glance at the clock. 

Eight in the morning. 

Something about that time has her heart rate quickening. She knows logically that it is not _late_ , that eight is early. But she’d been up at four forty five consistently for almost six years, and hadn’t let herself be up later than six since being released. Debbie prepares herself to get up, she can’t stay in this bed any longer, she’s slept enough-- four hours? That could do, she’d do better tonight. 

Lou wraps her arms around Debbie before she can move, pulling her close again her, and nuzzling her face against Debbie’s neck. 

“You’re not leaving this bed yet.” She mumbles, hands dipping under her shirt teasingly. Debbie presses her ass into Lou’s hips with a huff. 

“What’s my incentive?” Debbie asks, reaching back to rub Lou’s thigh. 

“Do you want me to give you some?” She asks, pressing a lazy kiss to Debbie’s neck. 

“I really do.” Debbie sighs, and Lou needs no further encouragement.

The blonde nudges Debbie onto her back, slipping a thigh between her legs. Lou guides Debbie’s left leg over her own, fingers caressing the apex of the brunette’s thigh as she slips her other arm behind Debbie’s neck. 

Lou ducks her head and kisses Debbie’s neck, letting her hand slip between the Ocean’s legs over her pyjama shorts. Debbie turns her head, bringing a hand up to caress Lou’s neck, urging her to kiss her. 

It’s easy to oblige, kiss her and stroke her hand over the soft fabric, slow and just not quite close enough. Lou’s other hand gets a handful of Debbie’s hair and grips it lightly, just enough to put a little pressure on her scalp. Debbie gives a little moan in response, making Lou smile. 

“Touch me.” Debbie whimpers against Lou’s lips, pressing her ass back against Lou’s hips. Lou chuckles and presses a little harder, closer to Debbie’s clit, but still over the fabric of her pyjamas. 

“I _am_ touching you.” Lou says, nibbling on Debbie’s bottom lip. 

“Closer, please.” Debbie replies. Lou gives a groan, ever an addict for Deborah Ocean begging her for something. 

So Lou trails her hand up to Debbie’s tummy, running her fingers over her soft skin, and ghosting them above her waistband. Debbie’s hand eases her back into a kiss, lazy, slow and open mouthed. Tired, tired love, but none the less passionate. 

Lou slips her hand under the waistband of Debbie’s pyjamas and between her legs, making her groan when her fingers find Debbie warm and wet. Debbie’s head falls back against the pillow and Lou ducks her head to kiss the Ocean’s neck again, languid and gentle, only half-intent on marking her. 

“You spoil me.” Debbie sighs, breath hitching when Lou hits a good spot. 

Lou hums in acknowledgement. “Yes I do.” She bites down gently against Debbie’s neck, earning her a whimper.

Lou’s fingers move further down, slipping two and then three fingers into Debbie and beginning a slow pace, making sure the heel of her hand continues to moves against her clit. Lou can feel Debbie’s thigh quiver each time she hits her at the right angle and it has her smiling, even more so when she hears those shaky little moans slipping from her lover’s lips as she pleases her. 

Soon Debbie’s breathing takes on that deliberate and concentrated pace that Lou knows so well, knows that there would be a little frown knitting her brows if she were to look up and see. The distracted way Debbie turns her head to kiss her is how Lou knows she’s getting close, the whimpers and gasps leaving her throat and the way she can feel her toes beginning to curl. 

The most real sign is when Debbie grapples for her hand, and Lou slips her fingers from Debbie’s hair in exchange for knitting their fingers together and feeling the tight grip the Ocean would dish out for purchase as the overwhelm of her orgasm began. 

A drawn out moan slips from Debbie’s throat and her back arches against the mattress, grounded only by Lou’s arm against her hips. Lou smiles against Debbie’s neck, continuing to pump her fingers in and out, even as Debbie’s walls tighten around Lou’s fingers. 

Despite having achieved her goal, Lou doesn’t pull her hand away from between Debbie’s legs. Instead she pushes her fingers deeper, making Debbie gasp. Lou can feel the signs of another orgasm creeping up on Debbie from her deeper ministrations, the heel of her hand still rubbing circles over her clit. 

“Fuck… oh-- fuck…” Debbie gasps, feeling it low in her tummy, right where Lou’s fingers are poised. She sucks in quick little breaths, feeling the tightness, spilling moans and gasps from her lips, until Lou curls her fingers and delves knuckle-deep into her, absolutely finishing her. She cries out as pressure of her second orgasm washes over her, barely having had any time to regain herself after the first. 

Like an elastic band finally snapping. 

This time, Lou lets her come down from it calmly, merely slipping her fingers from inside Debbie to slowly and gently massage her clit, which has her hips jumping slightly. Finally she relaxes, and Lou slips her hand out of Debbie’s pajama shorts, chuckling to herself as Debbie turns her head to kiss her after she’s tauntingly licked her fingers clean. 

“You’re so cute when you come.” Lou says, and Debbie, with cheeks thoroughly flushed, laughs and swats her leg lazily. She gives a groan when Lou moves her leg from between hers, and moves to lay on her back. 

Debbie immediately follows, rolling over in turn, and lifting herself up to lay down completely on top of the other woman. It’s done half jelly-legged, and with a huff of effort. Lou gives a soft groan, hands coming up to caress her back and hair, comforted by Debbie’s weight on her. She closes her eyes and continues to stroke her fingers over Debbie’s back, taking a deep breath and giving a sigh. 

“I love you.” Debbie mumbles against Lou’s neck, enervated by Lou’s generous incentive to keep her in bed. Lou pauses in her movement, leaning her cheek on top of Debbie’s head. 

“I love you too.” She says, slipping her hand up to comb her fingers through Debbie’s hair. Within a few minutes she feels Debbie doze off again, her breathing evening out and her body relaxing against Lou’s. The blonde isn’t far behind, dozing off herself not ten minutes after Debbie does. 

\--

They’re asleep for almost three hours more, until Lou awakens and gently extricates herself from under Debbie. Remarkably she stays asleep as Lou slips out, but not before writing a quick note and leaving it on the bed next to her. 

The sound of the door shutting twenty minutes later pulls Debbie into wakefulness and she finds the note. _Quick errand, be back soon._ Debbie stays in the bed until she can’t any longer and gives in to nature’s call. 

She showers and brushes her teeth, and moisturizes, but she has no other engagements today so she forgoes her usual makeup for something simpler and heads down stairs after dressing in something comfortable. Some black track pants and socks, a loose long sleeve shirt, and her brother’s watch.

The kettle is ready and waiting with a sachet of tea sitting on the counter when she finds herself wandering to the kitchenette. _Ginger and lemon_ , good for easing nausea, which had been vaguely lingering among the few different kinds of malaise Debbie is feeling. She finds herself thinking that she’d probably feel worse if Lou hadn’t been so attentive to her this morning, and pours herself some tea.

She slips two pieces of bread into the toaster, opens another cupboard to grab an asprin and a glass. The cold water she drinks is refreshing and within a few minutes she’s feeling a little lighter. 

Debbie sits at the table with her toast and tea, sipping it slowly, and peering over the newspaper that Lou had undoubtedly and unceremoniously tossed toward the general location of the table when she’d exited the building. She doesn’t read much, just skims a few articles as she nibbles her toast and and drinks her tea. 

She’s ten minutes into eating her light breakfast when Lou returns, keys jingling in the lock. 

Debbie sits up a little straighter, scooting back and bringing one of her legs up, planting one of her feet on the seat she’s occupying. She rests her mug on her knee and greets Lou with a smile. She has a shopping bag over her shoulder and a coffee and paper bag in hand.

“You’re up.” Lou says, almost as if she’d expected Debbie to stay in bed. 

Debbie gives her a look. “It’s almost noon.” She argues lightly, and Lou merely shrugs. 

Lou places her reusable shopping bag on the counter, and comes to sit down at the table as well. Lou puts her coffee on the table, leaning forward with her arms braced on her knees, which are quite wide apart, as is her tendency when sitting. 

They’re quiet for a moment, and Debbie understands that they would need to talk about her incident now. She takes a sip of tea and puts her mug on the table.

“How much do you remember?” Lou asks, looking at her with an earnest expression. Debbie sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line. 

“All of it… I think.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” Lou says, statement of fact. Debbie nods, and runs a hand through her damp hair. 

“I _acquired_ a hotel room the day I was released.” Debbie says, seeing Lou’s flicker of a knowing smile. “I took a hot bath, and I slept for fourteen hours.” Lou nods encouraging her to go on. 

“And I didn’t get much more than four after that. We started working on the heist, and it gave me an excuse to be awake… when I tried to sleep I was too _comfortable_ \-- my back really appreciates it but...” she shrugs. “When I managed to sleep I just ended up back in that shared cell, or in solitary. I don’t think I really _slept_ there, and if I did it was out of exhaustion.” Debbie reaches for her tea again, taking a long swig.

She continues, “Lights out was at 10, but it was never dark. People shouted, guards had patrols, their radios squawked. Then wake up was at five fifteen. But gen pop wakes up earlier, ‘cause no one wants to be in their cells longer than necessary. Between that and solitary... your body instinctively _learns_ how to wake up earlier so you don’t get startled awake.” 

Debbie picks up her last wedge of toast, and bites into it, chewing slowly. Lou leans back in her chair, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. Her expression is thoughtful, as if she’s still processing what Debbie had told her very carefully. 

“So when did you start using the Zee-Quil?” Lou asks as she puts her coffee back down. 

“About two weeks after I was released.” Debbie replies. “Wasn’t every night, ‘cause it gives me fucky dreams. But it got me five or six hours, which was better than what I was getting without it.”

Lou doesn’t say anything, just raises a brow and flexes her jaw. Debbie finishes her toast and wipes her hand on a napkin. 

“Since we closed the Met job I haven’t had to think about anything. I dotted every ‘I’ and crossed every ‘T’... I cleaned up the club.” She waves her hand around the space, and Lou nods, Debbie sighs again. “I was exhausted yesterday, and I took double the meds and went to bed early… I thought I was tired enough, but I woke up again… _starkly_ awake-- and I got frustrated.” 

“So you took more.” Lou says. Debbie nods. 

“I thought it would knock me out. But I was wide-fucking-awake again a few hours later.” She leans her head back and takes a deep breath. “So the third dose made me really woozy, and eventually sick.” Debbie picks her head back up, leaning it against her hand, arm braced against the table. “I wasn’t asleep and I knew it, but I was still dreaming. This awful feeling that a guard would show up… and the nausea and pain… and the exhaustion...” She trails off, looking at the crumbs on her plate. 

Lou sits forward again, head bowed slightly as she wrings her hands together in front of her. 

“You scared me.” She says, not look up yet. But Debbie drags her gaze over to Lou, watching her posture and her reluctance to look at her. Lou gives a quiet scoff. “I was getting annoyed with you, that you kept getting up… but something about the way you staggered to the washroom, had me awake like,” she snaps her fingers, finally meeting Debbie’s gaze. “Seeing all that purple. Worrying about how much you’d taken...”

“I’m sorry, Lou.” Debbie says, sitting up a little straighter. “I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“But I’ve been _in it_ since the night you texted me.” Lou says, almost exasperated that Debbie would keep her at arm’s length that long. “I’ve been _in you_ again, that still means the same as before right?” 

“Yes,” Debbie says, brows drawing together. “It means the same.”

“Then why hide this? I’ve been sleeping next to you for over a week, Debs, I’m not blind. Don’t you know how much you startle in your sleep? If you hadn’t _overdosed_ last night I would have asked you about your sleeping anyway.” 

Debbie sighs shallowly, feeling an ache deep in her chest and a light sting in her eyes that she’s only just able to combat. “Prison was bad.” She says hoarsely. 

“No shit.” 

Debbie looks at her, something pleading in her gaze. “I didn’t want… everything to be _different_ \-- I needed to feel something familiar… and-- god-- something safe. And you’re that. You’re that, and I felt a little more like myself with you here, and _having you_ again…”

Lou slips from her chair, coming to kneel in front of Debbie’s and lean her arms on her lap and take her hands in her own and press them against her lips. Debbie gives a shaky sigh, but she doesn’t let the stinging in her eyes get any further than that. She smiles at the way Lou stares up at her, half amused by the dramatics behind the gesture. 

“It’s gonna be different.” Lou says, squeezing Debbie’s hands between her own. Debbie nods. “That’s just reality. It’s been almost six goddamn years, honey. I’m here. You’ve got me. I will learn these new parts of you, like I learned everything else for the last twenty five fucking years--”

“Don’t make me feel old.” Debbie complains lightly, and Lou laughs, bowing her head to lean it against their clasped hands. 

“We’re not old yet.” Lou says, standing and leaning on the table. Debbie keeps one of her hands clasped with Lou’s. She runs her thumb over Debbie’s knuckles. “You heard me though?” She asks, and Debbie nods. 

“I don’t know how to get my sleep back.” Debbie admits. 

Lou smiles. “I have a few things we can try...” She steps away, over to the counter and takes out a medium sized flat box and a small white bottle. Lou holds out the bottle first, and Debbie looks it over. 

“A chocolate smoothie…?” She asks, and Lou grins. 

“It has ten grams of protein, and I know you don’t want to eat anything heavy right now.” She motions at the drink. “Plus we’re going to be _walking_ somewhere so you need to be fed.” 

Debbie takes the bottle, uncapping it and taking a sip. “Oh-- this is good.” 

“Thought you’d like it.” 

“What’s in the box?” Debbie asks after taking another swig. Lou presents it to her, and Debbie puts the smoothie on the table, taking the box from her and looking it over. “How much was this?” She asks skeptically. 

“The bill is in the bag if you _really_ want to pay me back-- just open it.” Lou says, sitting down again. She opens the brown bag and pulls out an elaborate breakfast pastry and takes a bite. 

Debbie gives her a look. “That smells really good.” She says, shaking her head as she opens the box. It’s a bracelet with a leather band and a metal charm between it. There’s an engraving on the front of the charm, a linework interpretation of a diamond.

“Very funny-- the engraving.” Debbie says, and Lou grins. 

“New in-joke.” 

Debbie takes it out of the box, taking a look at the underside of the charm, where there are mechanics are built in. “So it’s a heart rate tracker?”

“There’s a companion app… monitors sleep, steps, heart rate, and has a few breathing exercises for relaxation.” Lou says, with her mouth half full. 

“Sorry-- was that Ukrainian?” Debbie asks sarcastically. 

“You heard me.” Lou argues, putting her pastry down and wiping her hands on a napkin. “Here.”

She takes the bracelet and puts it on Debbie’s wrist. It’s attractive, simple. 

“Download the app, set it up, and we can go as soon as you’re done your smoothie.”

Debbie looks at her again, picking up her phone without looking away and presses her thumb to the home button. It takes her a few minutes to set up the app and connect the bracelet, but it’s all working without any problems by the time she’s finished customizing her settings. 

“Where are we going?” Debbie asks, putting her phone down and picking up the smoothie again. She takes a healthy swig. Lou shrugs, feigning ignorance.

“We’re _going_ to start solving your sleeping problem.” Lou replies, and Debbie rolls her eyes, knowing she won’t get any more out of her until she’s done her drink. Lou stands, bringing her empty coffee and the brown back over to the kitchenette. 

“You’ll need some good walking shoes, alright?” She puts the bag in the fridge and steps over to the sink to rinse the coffee cup before tossing it in the recycle.

“You’re lucky I love you.” 

Lou smiles. “Luck has nothing to do with it, honey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The position I got these two in, (semi nsfw) [LINK](http://sexpositions.club/positions/64.html)  
> Appearance of of Debbie's new bracelet,[LINK](https://www.etsy.com/ca/listing/576112566/fathers-day-gift-leather-bracelet-custom?ref=shop_home_active_3)  
> ~  
> Thank you for reading, comments are greatly appreciated!


	4. Dormez-Vous?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lou takes Debbie for a walk, a long walk, to a destination that will be the first step in helping her sleep better. But when in Rome it's hard not to talk dirty. Debbie might decide to walk a little longer just to keep Lou waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels like a filler to me! Full of banter and domestic Heist Wives, and little things that may be important later on. I need to tell myself fillers aren't bad, but I am already leaps and bounds ahead of myself in terms of story daydreaming about future chapters.   
> ~  
> Enjoy!

Despite what some may think, Debbie Ocean does have a decent collection of shoes, of all types. But now she stares at the shelf in her closet in the bra she’d just put on, with her shirt draped over her arm while she decides which pair to wear. 

“While the sun’s still shining, honey!” Lou calls from downstairs. 

“Alright— I’m coming!” Debbie replies, giving a sigh and shucking her shirt back on. She grabs a pair of black Kaaum sneakers off the shelf and a hair tie from her dresser before heading back down to Lou who is patiently waiting at the foot of the stairs.

Lou smiles at her, holding out one of Debbie’s little leather olive-green shoulder strap bags for her, ready to head out. Debbie sits on one of the last few steps and puts on her shoes. She finds herself admiring how good Lou looks in such a simple outfit. A button down patterned with tiny black and white checks— buttoned so low that it leaves little to the imagination, but a gold chain with a disk shaped charm draws the gaze up—, a rich brown belt, and black trousers, as well as her black leather biker jacket.

“Do I have something on my shirt?” Lou asks, teasing a little. Debbie looks up at her and stands, giving the blonde and appreciative up and down. She steps over purposefully and hooks two fingers under Lou’s belt and gives it a little tug. 

“How do you always look so good?” Debbie asks, a playfully pained tone to her voice. Lou gives a bark of laughter, leaning in a giving Debbie a light kiss. Both of them smile into the embrace, and Lou chuckles when Debbie steps just a little closer. 

“You are _insatiable_ , woman.” Lou accuses amusedly, pulling away and grabbing her own rosie-brown leather cross body bag from the coat rack. 

“Can you blame me?” Debbie smirks, and Lou pretends to think about it. 

“You’re right, I’m an absolute catch.” 

Debbie follows her over to the door, before looking over her shoulder. 

“Do you think I need a jacket?” 

Lou opens the door. “No, it’s nice out— can you grab my sunglasses for me though, they’re on the table there.” 

Debbie grabs both of the their sunglasses and hands Lou hers as she slips past the blonde and into the courtyard, putting her hair up in a ponytail. “Where to?” Debbie asks, and Lou takes her arm. 

“Walk with me, my dear.” Lou says dramatically, and guides Debbie toward the sidewalk. “Enjoy the movement. I won’t tell you how far we’re walking, but I will tell you that we can get lunch when we’re done my… _idea_. If you’re up to it—” she adds a little emphasis to those words, making sure Debbie knows she’s acknowledging that she might not be in top form after last night. “—we’ll walk back.” 

“Alright.” 

\--

 

Lou had not been kidding when she said they would be walking. Lou had also purposefully sought to distract her every so often, as she is so apt to do. It would be with the way she touched Debbie; arm in arm for the first stretch, arm over her shoulder for another. For the most recent one, Lou had taken her hand and brought it to her lips to kiss Debbie’s knuckles.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Lou asks, when Debbie meets her gaze, lowering their hands as they walk. 

“Mind?” Debbie asks, not quite sure what she meant. 

“Public displays of affection.” 

“Oh.” She hadn’t really thought about it. Before the… rough patch… and before prison, she’d gotten used to them being a _couple_ , they’d been younger, more daring, but Lou had respected that Debbie being “out” had its own asterisk. As long as straight women could do it with their “girlfriends” it was okay under most circumstances, anything more required there to be a decent population of queer attendance, or old friends whom Lou and she knew well enough to tell. 

“I missed marriage equality in the US.” Debbie says finally, realizing she’d been incarcerated at the time, and had only heard about it on the news. 

“June twenty-sixth, twenty fifteen.” Lou adds. “Anniversary is in a couple weeks.” 

“We should celebrate— like our New Zealand trip.” Debbie smiles. 

Lou laughs, faux-pondering the suggestion. “Where to?”

“You want to do that California motorcycle tour, don’t you?” Debbie asks, and Lou nods. 

“Got my eye on a real nice bike.” She says. 

“You could do your bike trip, I could take a car, and we could meet up along the way…” Debbie says with a shrug. Lou looks back at her with a smile. 

“That sounds really nice actually.” 

Debbie grins, leaning up and giving Lou a chaste kiss. 

“I _am_ okay with PDA.” She says. “Within reason.” 

Lou grins. “Within reason. Okay.” 

They stop at a traffic light, and Debbie sighs, leaning her head on Lou’s shoulder as they wait. 

“How far is this walk, babe?” She asks, and feels Lou chuckle. 

“Do you want to find a bench and take a break?” 

“Depends on how far our destination is.” Debbie challenges. 

Lou gives a dramatic sigh, and glances up at the street sign, orienting herself and then guiding them both toward the nearest bench. 

“There are water bottles in your bag.” Lou says, holding a hand out as Debbie shrugs off the small leather backpack. 

“You came prepared.” 

“I wasn’t exactly going to throw you into a long walk and not bring hydration.”

Lou takes a water bottle and so does Debbie and they sit for a few minutes watching people and cars and life go by. Lou slings her arm around Debbie’s shoulder and leans back, nudging a knee against Debbie’s. 

“The anticipation is killing me— we’ve been walking for twenty-five minutes.” Debbie says as she sips at her water. 

“Hmm. We’re lucky New York is flat.” Lou says casually and Debbie scoffs, elbowing her gently in the ribs. 

“How much longer?” She asks with mock exasperation. 

Lou pouts at her. “A little over ten minutes… if the pedestrian traffic isn’t too bad.”

Debbie seems satisfied with that answer, takes a final gulp of her water before slipping it back into her bag. She holds the bag open for Lou to slip her own bottle in, and they stand, recommencing their walk. 

A few blocks later they end up walking beside a woman carrying a baby in a carrier on her back. Debbie smiles at the little boy, and his whole face lights up, making her grins. Lou watches Debbie make faces at the baby, puffing out her cheeks, and sticking her tongue out and trying not to laugh too loudly when the baby bursts into giggles. The mom, glances back and smiles amusedly at Debbie before she turns a corner. Debbie sticks her tongue out and waves one last time, glad to see the baby grinning. 

“Look at you, _baby whisperer_.” Lou says with a smile, and Debbie just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at Lou. 

They walk hand in hand the last stretch, weaving through the people on the sidewalks, and pausing at crosswalks, and spotting tourists. Debbie follows Lou around corners and doesn’t question her any further about their destination. She actually walks right past it, stopped only by the tug of Lou’s hand in hers. 

“We’re here.” Lou say, nodding in the direction of the door. 

Debbie glances up and raises a brow, letting Lou’s hand slip to her waist as she gets the door for her. “A mattress store?” She asks, skeptically. 

“What else?” Lou replies, and the door beeps when it shuts behind them. 

The store is air conditioned and cool, a welcome difference from the warm outside. Debbie takes a deep breath as her gaze sweeps the showroom of mattresses, unable to comprehend how different each could possibly be. There are a few sales people dotted here and there around the room, and one behind the counter pouring over a catalogue. 

They approach, Lou leaning an elbow on the counter and giving the clerk a smile. The woman looks up, going a little wide-eyed before sobering her expression. 

“Good afternoon. Is there something I can help you find today?” She asks with her best retail smile. 

“Absolutely.” Lou replies. “We’re looking for a mattress— our current one isn’t giving us a very good sleep.”

“Oh— I can definitely help with that.” The woman springs up and darts around the counter and waves for them to follow. Lou braces her hand at Debbie’s waist and they walk over to a section at the back of the store. 

“What would you say the softness of your current mattress is?” The clerk asks. Her name tag is crooked but Debbie can see it says Lia. 

Lou looks a Debbie. “Not too soft… what would you say?” 

“Average? Not very supportive anymore.” 

Lou nods, looking back at Lia. 

“Okay, would you like a more supportive softness or…”

“Definitely more on the firm side, but supportive is important.” Debbie says quickly, and sees Lou smile in her periphery. 

“I’d say temperature control is also important.” Lou adds, and Debbie nods, not having considered that. 

Lia looks between the two of them, nodding thoughtfully. “Great, alright. I think I can show you a few different options. Let’s start over here at the left of this section.”

They follow her four queen beds to the left, where she presents them with their first option. “Go ahead and give it a try— I can hold your bags if you want.” 

Lou and Debbie relinquish their bags and get onto the first mattress. Immediately Debbie is sure it is too firm, and tries bouncing on it for good measure. She looks at Lou, who seems very much in agreement. 

“I can tell already— but it’s always best to know what you _don’t_ want!” Lia says, and motions for them to go ahead and try the next one. “This one is medium firmness with the cooling option you wanted.” 

They spend the next half hour trying out different mattress types and brands, beginning to narrow down a top 5 options. The number one had the right support but no temperature control, which Lou was not going to compromise on, even when Debbie told her it wasn’t necessary for her. 

“Okay, so I have these last three, they’re all memory foam, the differences include hypoallergenic and adjustable options.”

“Let’s go.” Lou says, and Debbie can’t help but laugh. 

They test the first one, and it is almost like a marshmallow. 

“Oh no.” Debbie says as she sinks into the mattress. Lou laughs and shimmies around a little. 

The second one is the opposite, only the slightest give— still more comfortable than prison, but she hadn’t exactly slept well in prison. 

Finally, the last one. Perfect. Medium firmness. 

“Yes. I like this.” Debbie says. 

“I do too.”

Lia beams. “It also has the temperature you control you wanted.” She adds, and Lou beams as she sits up. 

“Alright. I’m sold, but what about those adjustable settings?” She asks, and Debbie laughs. 

Lia laughs with them. “You can elevate each end of the bed. It’s good for sore legs, and even for chest colds— most people use it to read reclined.” 

“How often do you get colds, hon?” Lou asks, curiously, almost teasing. 

“Rarely.” 

“Hmm… Let’s give it a try shall we?” Lou heads over to the test-bed, and climbs on, picking up the remote off the example side table. 

Debbie follows, getting on as well, Lou presses a button and slowly lifts them from a lying position to a near seated position. 

“Not bad. This could be good for reading.” Debbie says, trying to list the benefits. 

“True.”

Then Lou lowers the top end, and tries elevating the bottom, until their legs are lifted. 

“Can’t say how this would be very useful to us.” Lou says, pressing the button to lower them back to horizontal. 

“What’s that last button?” Debbie asks, looking over Lou’s shoulder. Lou presses it and the bed starts to vibrate in a massage. 

Debbie laughs loudly as she lays back down, the vibration making her voice funny. Lou sets to giggling, joining her as they are massaged by the bed. 

“Turn it off, turn it off.” Debbie laughs, and Lou does, both of them sitting up, still hardly sober from laughing. 

“I think I might like that.” Debbie says, and Lou raises a brow. 

“Can you tell us the pricing?” Debbie asks.

Lia nods emphatically. “Sure thing! I’ll just go get my catalogue and be right back with you.” 

Lia disappears and Lou comes over and stands next to Debbie. She loops an arm around her waist and gets her to sit on the edge of the bed they had just tried. 

“I don’t think we need the elevation option.” Lou says, lifting a hand to brush some hair from Debbie’s face. Debbie turns to her, canting her head to one side. 

“Why’s that?” 

Lou looks behind them at the bed, then back at Debbie, and leans in to whisper close to her ear.

“Are either of us going to want to take the time to find the remote and make it flat— especially when I’m about to fuck you on it?” 

Debbie’s cheeks redden and she clears her throat. 

“And I’m the insatiable one?” She says to Lou, nudging the blonde’s shoulder and giving a huff.

Lia returns a moment later with an ipad in hand. 

“I’ll just scan the label and—”

“Actually,” Lou interrupts gently. “We’ll take the medium firmness, no need for the elevation option.” 

Lia nods. “Okay, great choice. I’ll scan that then.” She goes over to the other bed and Lou and Debbie stand, waiting a few paces away. 

“Alright, here’s all the info for you— and payment plans....” 

“Oh we won’t need a payment plan.” Debbie says. 

“We’ll pay in full.” Lou agrees. 

“I’ll add this to your order, is there anything else I can help you with today?” Lia asks.

“Yes, actually.” Lou says, and Debbie gives her a curious look. 

“I’d like to know your shipping policies, and whether you also sell mattress toppers.” 

Lia nods, pressing a few things on the tablet. “We ship countrywide, Monday to Saturday, between 10 and 7.” She says. “And we do have mattress toppers as well.” 

“Great, we’re ready to pay— thanks.” 

“Alright, let’s head back over to the front counter.” Lia says, going ahead. 

Debbie touches Lou’s arm, catching her attention. 

“Why do we need a mattress topper if we’re getting a mattress?” She asks. 

“How long are we staying in New York?” Lou asks.

“How long _are_ we staying in New York?” Debbie mirrors.

“You said you wanted to celebrate didn’t you? Let’s go to California. I only need ten days for my bike trip, we can leave in three weeks. That’ll be enough time to have a condo set up and have the new mattress shipped. So we’ll just sleep on the topper while we’re still in New York.” 

Debbie looks at her for a long moment, some kind of morose affection in her expression. 

“What’s that face, Debs?” Lou says, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. Debbie smiles at her, leaning her cheek into Lou’s hand without looking away. 

“I was a selfish idiot for ever walking away from you.” She says, stepping closer and giving her a firm and loving kiss. However chaste, Lou feels the sentiment behind it. 

“Let’s go pay for our new bed.” Lou says with a smile, draping her arm over Debbie’s shoulder. 

They make their way over to the counter, where Lia is setting up their order. 

“Do you have a recommendation for a mattress topper?” Lou asks. “For similar support as the new mattress.” 

Lia smiles at her and nods. “Yes, a cooling firm memory foam topper will offer similar support for your current mattress— it’s medium firmness, you said?” 

“A little more on the soft side.” Lou says, but nods. “We’ll add the topper to the order.”

“Alright, I’ll need your shipping information.” Lia says, turning the tablet over to Lou. 

“The address for the topper will be different from the mattress.” Lou says as she thumbs in the address, while Debbie watches. 

“Perfect. If the address is local we can have your order delivered tomorrow morning.”

“It is.” Lou says contentedly. 

Lia puts the total up and asks how they will be paying, Lou pulls out a card without blinking at the price. 

“Alright, the mattress will be dispatched from our California location and sent to this address within ten days.” 

“Thank you.” Lou says, giving her a smile. 

“Yes, thanks.” Debbie says, “have a nice day.” 

“Thank you! I hope you found everything you were looking for.” Lia says as they make their way to the door. 

“We did!” Lou assures, opening the door for Debbie. 

They step outside. It’s still May but it’s warm, enough that it made a difference by the AC in the store. 

“I can’t believe you have a storage locker in California.” Debbie says as they make their way up the block. 

“You don’t?” Lou asks with mock-surprise, linking her arm with Debbie’s. “You wanna get lunch?” 

“Yes, it’s almost two.” 

Lou considers for a moment. “If we walk for ten minutes, then find somewhere to eat, we can take a cab back to the club.”

“Fifteen minutes.” Debbie says, and Lou raises a brow. “The walking, it’s to tire me out right?” 

“Yes…” 

“I don’t wanna walk all the way back, but I know a place we can stop for lunch that’ll take us fifteen minutes to walk to.” She shrugs. 

Lou laughs. “I don’t want you _too_ tired.” She slips her hand over Debbie’s neck, giving her a suggestive look. 

Debbie gives her a half glare, lowering her voice. “You _are not_ making me a pillow princess to help me sleep. I want to fuck you too.” 

Lou cackles, hunching over as they walk, and Debbie rolls her eyes lightly, patting her partner’s back until she rights herself and half hugs Debbie as they stroll toward their mid-day meal. 

“Ever generous, aren’t you” Lou teases, and Debbie grins. 

“I’ve gotta say thank you _somehow_.” She replies, and notices Lou’s expression sober a little. 

“You know you don’t though— right? Knowing you’re alright is enough.” 

“Yeah I do know. But if you don’t think my getting to fuck you isn’t at least forty percent selfish, then you’re wrong.” 

“Selfish?” Lou asks, amused again. 

“Do know how hot you sound with my face between your legs?” 

Lou gives her an exasperated look. “I will hail a cab right now if you wanna prove it.” 

“No!” Debbie exclaims. “We’re walking to lunch.” 

“Ugh.”

“It was _your_ plan.” Debbie says innocently.

“And if it didn’t do the trick, what I do when we get home certainly will.” 

“You are such a tease.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, comments are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, comments are greatly appreciated!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [we'll figure out the rest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758385) by [blanchtt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt)




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